This feels like a diary entry from an explorer on a polar expedition. Nothing new to report. The days are getting shorter, and I'm just so tired.
The only evidence that I'm not completely dead inside is how much I frigging love my cats. Today while I was unloading groceries, Lola tried to get inside a paper wine bag. She first tried crawling in, and then realized she was too big, or the bag was too small. At any rate the physics of it were not working in her favor but she was determined to make it happen. So she backed up to get a running start and skidded across the wood floor, head first into the wall, shrouded to her torso in paper bag. The bag crumpled like Volkswagen Beetle in a high speed crash test. I haven't laughed that hard since a certain orange goblin contracted the 'rona, only this time it was a wholesome, delighted laugh and not a schadenfreude-y, vengeful one.
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| Show me a cat that doesn't love the shit out of laundry day |
Winfrey/Parton 2024. I'm calling it now. Oprah is a Boss who knows how to get things done and influence people, and Dolly quietly accomplishes things behind the scenes while charming the pants right off of all of us.
I've been opining about the delicious simplicity of the Charlie Brown Snacksgiving spread for years. I feel seen.
Analog Reading:
The Vanishing Half by Brit Bennett. It's brilliant and beautiful. Go get it in your hands as fast as you can.
Dolly is the best, tons of books and a million bucks. Did you know laughter is the best medicine??!!
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